


Mousai

by AStudyInAlgedonics



Series: 221Bs [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, warning for muses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AStudyInAlgedonics/pseuds/AStudyInAlgedonics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is John's muse, yes. But John is Sherlock's muses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mousai

**Author's Note:**

> I SHOULD BE WORKING ON POCILLO BUT I'M TRYING TO GET BACK INTO THE SWING OF THINGS
> 
> Really not satisfied with this but I have no other ideas for the prompt "muse". Ugh. Ah well. As ever, I own nothing.

It’s safe to say Sherlock is John’s muse. It’s obvious to anyone who reads the good doctor’s blog - there’s a distinct increase in energy between the posts he made when he was alone and the posts he writes about Sherlock (about _them_ , really).

What’s less clear is that the reverse is also true. John is very much Sherlock’s muse - muses, if he’s honest. He inspires far more than he ought to, even somehow sparking a touch of interest in things Sherlock frankly could not care less about.

John is his Thalia, his muse of comedy, the one who doesn’t condemn - and better yet, adores - Sherlock’s odd, sometimes black humour; the first chase, the “Welcome to London” chase, made him laugh in a way he hasn’t since very early childhood.

John is his historian, Clio: less flattering, but someone needs to set the record straight on that ridiculously romanticised nonsense he calls a blog.

Reluctantly, John is his Urania, forcing him to learn stupid trivia - and worse, retain it - about the solar system.

John is his Euterpe, Melpomene: unknowing catalyst for his music and tragedies (the fall, the fall, oh, god, sorry, he _must_ be kept safe).

Later, John is his Erato. When he admits this it is reverent: “Sing, my muse,” against his lips as his fingers bring John to begging.

 


End file.
